Seven Years
by sammasterpiece
Summary: When Matt and Josh first meet as new students heading to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, they have no idea what the future holds for them. While Harry Potter battles Lord Voldemort, they have problems of their own to worry about.
1. FIRST YEAR: King's Cross

**Author's Note: I've always wanted to write a Harry Potter crossover. I also love writing about the members of my favourite band. Doing both at the same time allows me to write about what they were like as kids and view the world of Harry Potter from the eyes of someone other than Harry. **

**I plan to follow Matt and Josh mostly throughout their seven years at Hogwarts, but the other band members will get plenty of time as well.  
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**Even if you don't like Marianas Trench (and really, you probably should), hopefully you can enjoy this story anyway.**

**Note: First Year takes place in 1995, AKA Harry's fifth year.  
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><p>September first dawned cold and clear, and at quarter to eleven the platform was already bustling. Mr. Ramsay led his family through the crowd of wizards and Muggles alike, making his way towards the barrier that stood between platforms nine and ten.<p>

"Mum! Dad! I see it, I see it!" Eleven-year-old Josh Ramsay bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, craning his neck to see over the heads of the taller people in front of him. In his left hand was a cage carrying a small owl; the owl reacted to his excitement, hooting shrilly and flapping its wings. "_Quiet , _Pipsqueak," Josh told it sternly.

"Calm down, Josh," Sara said from behind him, rolling her eyes. She was his oldest sister, and would be entering her seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Next to her was Ange, Josh's other sister, pushing a trolley of her own. She would be entering her fourth year.

"It's my first time," Josh said, somewhat defensively. "Just because _you're_ used to it by now…" Suddenly, the metal barrier that marked platform nine and three quarters loomed up in front of them, and Josh gulped. It looked much more solid from this angle. "Someone else can go first."

"'C'mon, Josh," his father said, pushing his trolley towards the barrier. "Nothing to be afraid of."

As he stood there, willing himself to move, a large family, all with red hair, walked in front of the barrier. They debated for a moment, before breaking off into pairs and stepping towards the barrier, disappearing through the other side.

Well, if _they _could do it…Josh took a deep breath, before tucking Pipsqueak's cage securely under his arm and running towards the barrier. It wouldn't hurt _that_ much if he crashed, he comforted himself, before stepping through the metal wall and finding himself on the other side.

Platform nine and three quarters. Slightly in awe, Josh stood and looked around as the rest of his family burst through the barrier behind him. A scarlet red steam engine was waiting at the end of the platform, belching white smoke into the air. King's Cross was nearly as busy on this side as it was on the other; the air had taken on a slightly hectic feel as students and families loaded trunks onto the train and said goodbyes.

"I see Susan," Sara announced, giving her parents a quick hug before lugging her trunk towards her friend. A moment later, Ange spotted a friend of her own and also departed. Josh watched her go, feeling strangely lost.

"I don't know anyone," he said, looking at the crowds of people that seemed so much _bigger_ than him.

Mr. Ramsay clapped him on the back. "I reckon that'll change real quick. C'mon, I'll help you load your trunk onto the train."

With his father's help, Josh managed to push his trunk on board. He stood at the edge of the doorway, looking at his parents.

"It's five to eleven," his father said at last, glancing down at his watch.

Looking distinctly teary-eyed, his mother said, "You'll be okay now?"

Josh nodded mutely. With a sigh, Mrs. Ramsay swept him up into a hug. "We'll see you at Christmas," she said. "It won't be that long, truly."

"You'll write?" Josh asked.

"Every day."

"Not _every_ day," he hastily corrected. "People will think I'm a baby."

His mother smiled. "Not every day, then."

Josh looked at his father, before hugging him tightly. "See you," he said, once he let go.

His parents waved at him, and he waved back; the doors in front of him slid shut.

Sighing deeply to himself, Josh picked up Pipsqueak's cage in one hand and the handle of his trunk in the other. Slowly, he began to make his way down the train's corridor.

It was almost eleven o'clock, and most compartments were already full. He had almost reached the end of the train before he found one that was empty, except for one boy who looked to be his age sitting by himself and staring woefully out the window.

"Mind if I sit with you?" Josh asked, rapping on the compartment door.

The other boy jumped at the noise and turned around in his seat. He examined Josh for a moment before saying, "No, go ahead."

With some effort, Josh managed to push his trunk up into a ceiling rack. He then took a seat opposite the other boy and placed Pipsqueak's cage between his feet.

"My name's Josh," he said, somewhat awkwardly as the other boy had already turned to stare out the window again. "Josh Ramsay."

"I'm Matt Webb," said the other boy in a quiet voice. Beneath his unkempt brown hair, Josh thought his eyes looked a little red.

"Have you been crying?"

"No," Matt said, angrily wiping at his eyes before facing the window.

Josh watched him for a moment. "Aren't you excited?" he asked, curious. "We're going to Hogwarts!" When Matt didn't respond, he continued, "My sisters are in fourth and seventh years. I've been waiting for _ages_ for it to be my turn."

"My sister's a Muggle," Matt said, even quieter than before.

"So you're Muggle-born?" Josh asked after a brief silence.

Matt nodded, looking morose.

"What's it like? Everyone in my family's a wizard or a witch, you know."

"What's it like being a wizard?" Matt shot back. "I didn't even know magic existed until I got my letter. Before that weird things would always happen around me, but I always thought it was because I was unlucky, or _mad_…" Suddenly he looked like he was about to cry again.

"Being a wizard is brilliant," Josh said earnestly, trying to cheer him up. "I mean, I wouldn't know because I'm not allowed to do magic yet, but it makes things much easier. Honestly, I don't know how Muggles live without it."

"My family managed fine."

"You do—you do _want_ to be a wizard, right?"

Matt shrugged, and Josh stared at him, aghast at the thought of anyone _not_ wanting to know magic.

"It's just—I'm scared," Matt admitted after a moment. "I don't know anything, and…what if I'm bad at it? What if they kick me out? What if I'm not a wizard after all?"

"Oh, you wouldn't have even gotten a letter if you weren't a wizard," Josh assured him. "Dumbledore would never make a mistake like that." At Matt's blank look he said, "Surely you know who _Dumbledore _is?"

"I told you, I don't know anything," Matt said, sounding a little cross.

"Dumbledore's the headmaster of Hogwarts. He's been all over the papers recently. The _Daily Prophet_'s been calling him a crackpot for months. Of course, my family doesn't believe that. Dumbledore's brilliant. Best wizard of the century, maybe best wizard _ever_." Seeing Matt's confused expression, Josh forced himself to stop. "Anyway, they won't kick you out, unless you do something _terrible_. And there's lots of wizards and witches that aren't all that good at magic. The worst that can happen is you'll end up in Hufflepuff House."

"What's wrong with Hufflepuff?"

"Nothing, really," Josh hastened to say. "It's just for people who are average, really. But Hufflepuff's a million times better than Slytherin. All the dark wizards come from Slytherin—that's the house You-Know-Who was part of."

"Who?"

"Surely you know who You-Know-Who is!"

"I _don't_ know who," Matt said, sounding frustrated.

Josh stared at him, somewhat in awe. "Wow, you Muggles really have no idea what's going on."

"Well, what _is_ going on?"

"You-Know-Who is the darkest wizard of _all time_," Josh told him. "Dumbledore says that he's come back—that's why he's in the paper, because no one wants to believe him."

"Do you believe him?"

"Course I do. But I don't want to. It's scary, thinking that _he's _out there, somewhere. That's why no one else wants to believe it, because they know what he can do."

"Why is everyone so afraid of him?" Matt asked, too curious to be frightened.

"Years ago—before I was born, even—You-Know-Who wanted power, so he started building up an army of dark wizards…" Josh wrinkled his nose. Honestly, his parents hadn't told him a lot of the story, telling him he was still too young. "And a lot of people died," he finished lamely.

"You think he's going to do something like that again?"

"Probably. But it's okay, because this time around we have Harry Potter."

This time, Josh wasn't even surprised at the blank look on Matt's face.

"Harry Potter's the only one to ever survive the Killing Curse," he said. "It was cast at him by You-Know-Who himself. People are saying he's the Chosen One—the only one who can get rid of You-Know-Who forever. But a lot of people think he's mad, too, because he says he saw You-Know-Who return last year…"

Josh shuddered, remembering his sister's tales when they returned home early last year; tales of the end of the Tri-Wizard tournament, where Harry Potter emerged dragging the dead body of another student behind him.

"And just think," he said, shaking the memory from his head, "he's on this train somewhere _right now_. He's in Gryffindor House, of course, because that's where all the brave people go. It's the best house, I think. I hope I end up there, everyone else in my family has…" A look of worry passed over Josh's face.

"How many Houses _are_ there?" Matt asked, looking amused. The seriousness of what Josh had told him seemed to have gone over his head, but Josh figured that was okay since he hadn't even known who these people were half an hour ago.

"Four. The other one's Ravenclaw—it's where smart wizards and witches go. It's a good house too, I suppose," Josh said candidly, "but not as good as Gryffindor."

"I wonder where I'll end up…"

"As long as it's not in Slytherin." Seeing the worry on Matt's face, Josh added, "Although I'm sure there are some good witches and wizards in Slytherin, too."

"Gryffindor sounds good," Matt decided. He smiled shyly at Josh. "It'd be nice if I could be in the same house as you. You're the only wizard I know—and my only friend."

"I've known lots of wizards, but you're my only friend, too," Josh said, smiling back. He was happy and relieved that making friends hadn't been as hard as he thought it would be. "Wanna play some Exploding Snap?"

Pulling a pack of cards out of his trunk, Josh laughed at the look of apprehension on Matt's face. "It's not dangerous," he said. "Well—not _that_ dangerous, anyway."

Matt's yelp when the first card exploded reverberated down the train corridor and had Josh rolling on the floor with laughter.

At half past noon, the sound of wheels squeaking down the hallway could be heard. "Brilliant," Josh said, jumping to his feet. "It's the trolley. Do you want anything?"

Matt shook his head, but when the plump witch poked her head into their compartment Josh bought enough treats for the both of them. "Try something," he encouraged.

Tentatively, Matt reached out and took a package of Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans.

"Be careful with those," Josh warned. "Some of the flavours are absolutely _disgusting_." He opened his own package of beans and took out a grey one speckled with black dots. "Pepper," he guessed, pushing the bean through the bars of Pipsqueak's cage. The owl picked it up and swallowed it whole; a moment later he opened his beak to release a stream of smoke.

Matt looked apprehensive. "Are these safe to eat?"

"Absolutely," Josh assured him. He handed Matt a bean that was light pink. "This one's probably normal."

Josh had bought enough treats to keep them busy throughout the afternoon, as the train passed through open fields and mountain ranges. As the ride wore on, they took to sitting back in their seats and staring out the window, talking idly. Now it was Matt's turn to tell Josh about what it was like being a Muggle, a conversation Josh found fascinating.

"So, electricity—it's kinda like magic?"

"I guess you could say that," Matt agreed. "It's just science, really, although I'm not sure how it works."

"Science sounds brilliant."

Matt giggled. "How long until we get there, do you think?"

"Not long, hopefully."

As if on cue, a girl with bushy hair stuck her head in their compartment. She had already changed into her robes, and a shiny badge was pinned to them. "Less than an hour until we reach Hogsmeade Station," she said, smiling at them. "You might want to change into your robes now."

After she had left, Josh firmly closed the compartment door. "We're almost there!" he said. "Are you excited yet?"

"Maybe a little," Matt admitted with a small smile. "I'm nervous for the—what did you call it?"

"The Sorting," Josh said. "And don't worry—I'm sure you'll be fine wherever you end up."

Matt nodded, but he still looked fairly queasy. Josh attempted to cover up his own queasiness with a show of bravado.

"Come on—let's get changed now." Josh grinned. "Nothing like wearing wizard's robes to make you feel like a wizard!"

"Or like a girl," Matt grumbled after he had pulled his robe on. It was a little too big, its hem dragging on the ground. "My mum said I'd grow this year," he said in explanation. "Anyway, in the Muggle world boys don't have to wear stuff like this."

"Well, you have to wear it here," Josh said firmly. "It's not too bad, really." He pulled his trunk down from the overhead rack and set Pipsqueak's cage on top of it. Then he turned and stared out the window, where the lights of Hogsmeade could be seen twinkling in the distance but growing ever closer. His stomach was fluttering with anticipation and nerves.

Minutes later, the train was grinding to a halt outside of Hogsmeade Station. Josh pushed open the compartment door before dragging his trunk out into the hallway, Pipsqueak's cage tucked once again under his arm. All down the corridor, students were flooding out.

"Follow me," he called back to Matt. Carefully, they made their way through the crush of bodies to the nearest exit, waiting while assistants on the platform helped students with their luggage.

"First years?" the kindly-looking witch with iron-grey hair asked them as she took their trunks. They nodded, and she smiled. "Nothin' to worry about—you'll have a wonderful time at Hogwarts, trust me." She winked at them before turning to help the next set of children.

The sun had set and the air was cool, and Josh shivered as they waited. "What are we waiting for?" Matt asked.

"You'll see," Josh replied. He didn't want to tell Matt about the boat trip across the lake with Professor Hagrid—he wanted him to experience it for himself.

Except the voice that called them a few minutes later didn't belong to Professor Hagrid. Of course, Josh had never met Hagrid, but his sisters had talked about him a lot. He was supposedly twice the size of a regular man, but friendly and one of the most well-liked teachers, despite the fact that he could be kind of dim.

"First years, line up over here, please! All first years to me!"

Matt gulped, and looked toward Josh; he smiled, and together they made their way off the platform.

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><p><strong>Author's Note: I'm not sure about the age difference between Josh and his sisters, so I made it up. I promise Mike and Ian will enter the story later! <strong>

**Please review! Tell me what you think, and if you have any ideas for what these kids should get up to over the next seven years let me know and maybe I'll put it in somewhere.  
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	2. The Sorting

**Disclaimer: The Sorting Hat's song, as well as Dumbledore's speech, belong to J.K. Rowling. So do all characters at this point, although I'll be introducing original characters in the next chapter.**

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><p>Holding a lantern high above her head, a witch with a prominent chin and severe haircut continued to call the first years towards her. "Leave your luggage, it'll be taken separately! All first-years to me!" Matt and Josh lined up behind the first-years that had already gathered, and waited impatiently while the rest made their way over.<p>

Once it appeared they were all together, the witch led them down a narrow path away from the rest of the students. "Keep close!" the witch shouted. "Just around this bend here!"

A collective gasp rose from the throats of the students as the path opened up in front of them onto the shore of a great lake. On the other side, a turreted castle sat on top of a mountain, its windows lit up from within.

On the near shore, a fleet of small boats was bobbing on the water. "Four to a boat!" the witch called, and the first-years scrambled down the bank. Josh and Matt clambered into a boat together, and were joined a minute later by a boy with sandy blonde hair and a girl with her hair in braids.

"All settled, then?" The witch was seated in a boat to herself; she pulled out her wand and pointed it towards the castle. "Forward!"

The boats turned simultaneously so their bows were directed at the castle and then began to sail across the smooth water.

"This is cool," Matt whispered to Josh, staring in awe at the castle as it drew nearer. Josh only nodded; he had been told about this boat ride by his sisters, but it was something quite different to experience it in person.

Ahead of them, the cliff on which the castle stood loomed. "Duck your heads!" the witch at the front called, and as they did the boats sailed through a curtain of ivy and down a dark tunnel. Minutes later, they reached an underground harbour and the little boats came to a halt on its shore; they climbed out and stood on wobbly legs.

Once they were all on solid ground, the witch led them up a winding passageway. At the end was a giant oak door. She raised her hand and knocked. They waited.

After a moment, it was opened from the other side. Another witch stood there, silhouetted by the light of the hall. As they walked out of the passageway and into the castle, Josh could see that she had a narrow face, glasses perched on the end of her nose, her grey hair pulled back in a severe knot at the base of her neck. "Professor McGonagall," he whispered.

"Who?" Matt asked.

"She's the Head of Gryffindor House." Josh smiled up at her, as if his appearance could leave an impression that would get him into her house.

"Oh." Matt was looking green again.

"Thank you, Wilhelmina," McGonagall said to the witch who had brought them there. "You may join the others at the staff table now; I'll take the students from here."

After the witch had departed, McGonagall turned to face them, her mouth set into strict lines. "First-years follow me, please." They were led into a small room off the side of the Great Hall.

"The Sorting will begin in just a few minutes," she said, and then smiled. It made her look decades younger, in Matt's opinion. "No need to be nervous. You'll all end up just where you need to go."

Despite her calming words, Matt was too nervous to pay attention to the rest of her speech. When she left them alone a few minutes later, he turned to Josh. "What did she say?"

Josh grinned. He was hiding his nerves very well, if he had any. "Just follow my lead, and behave yourself. And maybe try to straighten up your hair." He gestured to Matt's head, where his hair waved in directions that sometimes defied gravity. Futilely, he tried to push it down.

McGonagall was gone long enough that the students grew restless, and began to shuffle and whisper to each other. When she returned, she was holding a stool under one arm and an ancient hat under the other.

"Quiet down!" She raised her voice over those of the students. "Line up, nice and orderly. That's it. Now follow me."

They exited the room into a wide, sweeping hallway. At the other end of the hallway was a set of great wooden doors, and standing in front of the doors were several ghosts.

Involuntarily, Matt squeaked. "Ghosts are real?" he whispered at Josh's questioning glance, looking down at himself as if to make sure he was still all there.

"Course! Look, there's Nearly-Headless Nick!" Josh pointed to a ghost who was dressed in Elizabethan costume, the ruffled collar of his shirt pulled up almost to his chin.

"_Nearly_ headless?"

"You'll see soon enough."

"Boys!" McGonagall's voice crackled. "Don't make me take points from you before you're even sorted!"

They fell silent immediately. McGonagall strode towards the entrance doors. "After you," she said to the ghosts.

In complete unison, the ghosts disappeared through the doors. McGonagall raised her wand, and the great doors swung open. She strode inside, and the first-years followed, awed into silence.

The Great Hall was huge; four long tables for the students covered the floor and at the far end of the hall was a table for the staff members. Hundreds of candles hovered in midair under a ceiling bewitched to look like the sky outside. There was a rustle of robes as every student turning in their seats to look at the first-years. Matt gulped.

McGonagall strode through the silence that had descended upon the Hall to set the stool down at the crossroads between all four tables. She then placed the worn hat on top of the stool. She stepped back and Matt waited for something to happen.

After a moment of silence, the hat's brim tore open and a sound emerged. Belatedly, Matt realized it was singing.

_In times of old when I was new  
>And Hogwarts barely started<br>The founders of our noble school  
>Thought never to be parted:<br>United by a common goal,  
>They had the selfsame yearning,<br>To make the world's best magic school  
>And pass along their learning.<em>  
>"<em>Together we will build and teach!"<br>The four good friends decided  
>And never did they dream that they<br>Might some day be divided,  
>For were there such friends anywhere<br>As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

(Next to Matt, Josh snorted)

_Unless it was the second pair  
>Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?<br>So how could it have gone so wrong?  
>How could such friendships fail?<br>Why I was there and so can tell  
>The whole sad, sorry tale.<br>Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those  
>Whose ancestry is purest."<br>Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose  
>Intelligence is surest."<br>Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those  
>With brave deeds to their name,"<br>Said Hufflepuff, "I'll teach the lot,  
>And treat them just the same."<br>These differences caused little strife  
>When first they came to light,<br>For each of the four founders had  
>A house in which they might<br>Take only those they wanted, so,  
>For instance, Slytherin<br>Took only pure-blood wizards  
>Of great cunning, just like him,<em>

(Here Matt breathed a great sigh of relief, since if there was one thing he was not it was pure-blood, and surely Slytherin House wouldn't want him)

_And only those of sharpest mind  
>Were taught by Ravenclaw<br>While the bravest and the boldest  
>Went to daring Gryffindor.<br>Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,  
>And taught them all she knew,<br>Thus the houses and their founders  
>Retained friendships firm and true.<br>So Hogwarts worked in harmony  
>For several happy years,<br>But then discord crept among us  
>Feeding on our faults and fears.<br>The houses that, like pillars four,  
>Had once held up our school,<br>Now turned upon each other and,  
>Divided, sought to rule.<br>And for a while it seemed the school  
>Must meet an early end,<br>What with duelling and with fighting  
>And the clash of friend on friend<br>And at last there came a morning  
>When old Slytherin departed<br>And though the fighting then died out  
>He left us quite downhearted.<br>And never since the founders four  
>Were whittled down to three<br>Have the houses been united  
>As they once were meant to be.<br>And now the Sorting Hat is here,  
>And you all know the score:<br>I sort you into houses  
>Because that is what I'm for,<br>But this year I'll go further,  
>Listen closely to my song:<br>Though condemned I am to split you  
>Still I worry that it's wrong,<br>Thought I must fulfil my duty  
>And must quarter every year<br>Still I wonder whether Sorting  
>May not bring the end I fear.<br>Oh, know the perils, read the signs,  
>The warning history shows,<br>For our Hogwarts is in danger  
>From external, deadly foes.<br>And we must unite inside her  
>Or we'll crumble from within<br>I have told you, I have warned you…  
>Let the Sorting now begin.<em>

There was applause, but it was interspersed with whispers and mutters. Josh turned to Matt and raised his eyebrows at the ominous message, but they had no time to exchange thoughts: McGonagall was already striding up to the hat and pulling a long piece of parchment out of her robes. She cleared her throat and looked down at the list before calling out the first name.

"Abercrombie, Euan!"

A small, terrified-looking boy stumbled forward and Matt watched carefully to see what would happen next. The boy picked up the hat, sat on the stool, before putting the hat on his head. It slid down until it covered his eyes, and after a moment the hat's brim opened again and it shouted,

"_Gryffindor!" _

The boy slid off the stool, set the hat down and walked over to the loudly cheering, red-clad table. Matt lost track of the names that followed; he was silently cursing his parents for the surname that put him towards the end of the list.

"Ramsay, Joshua!" Matt watched as Josh walked forward with hardly a quiver in his step to place the hat upon his head. It seemed it had barely settled before the brim opened wide and shouted,

"_Gryffindor!"_

A huge grin suffusing his face, Josh walked toward the Gryffindor table to sit next to two girls that had to be his sisters. He waved to Matt and pointed to the empty seat next to him as if to say, "I'm saving it for you!"

Matt managed a weak smile, but felt sick to his stomach. What if he wasn't Sorted into Gryffindor?

At last, his name was called: "Webb, Matthew!" He knew everyone was watching him as he made his way forward, trying not to shake too badly. He took a seat on the stool and held up the hat, hesitating for a moment before jamming it down over his ears.

"No need to be so violent," a voice said in his ear. "I'm fragile; almost a thousand years old, you know."

_Sorry,_ Matt thought.

"Right." The hat sounded vaguely approving. "Muggle-born, are you? Bright, I can see that much; loyal; you've got a noble heart. I think we better make it _GRYFFINDOR!" _

Matt knew the last word was shouted out loud from the roaring applause. With a cautious smile he lifted the hat off his head and made his way over to the table to sit next to Josh. As he sat, Josh raised his hand for a high five.

"The next seven years are going to be bloody brilliant." He sighed happily, before sitting up excitedly and tapping Matt on the shoulder. "There—over there—do you see him? The one with the black hair and glasses. _That's _Harry Potter."

Matt stared down the table until he found the boy Josh was talking about. He seemed thin, his limbs awkward. "That's the Chosen One?" he asked in disbelief.

"What did you expect?" Josh asked defensively. "Some kind of superhero?"

Matt didn't admit that yes, he had been hoping for something along those lines.

The table erupted into applause again as a lanky boy with sandy hair made his way towards the Gryffindor table. Matt recognized the boy who'd joined them in the boat and smiled tentatively at him.

Shortly after that, the last person—Rose Zeller—was sorted. They all waited impatiently while McGonagall cleared the Sorting Hat and its stool out of the Great Hall. Matt was just starting to realize how hungry he was, despite all the treats they'd eaten on the train, and stared down at his empty plate.

"We'll be eating soon," Josh whispered to him. "Dumbledore has to speak first."

At the front of the hall, a man with a long, silvery beard rose to his feet. He was very tall, and a pair of half-moon spectacles sat on his face; just from the way he stood told Matt that he had a lot of power.

"To our newcomers," the Headmaster said in a voice that rang throughout the hall, "welcome! To our old hands—welcome back! There is time for speech-making, but this is not it. Tuck in!"

Matt stared as Dumbledore sat down again. That was it?

"What do you want?" Josh asked, nudging him in the side. Matt turned to face the table again, and his jaw dropped; the platters that had been empty before had been filled with piles of delicious looking food. His stomach rumbled.

"Everything," he replied.

On the table was whole roasted turkeys, slabs of ham and pork, chicken and steak; there was gravy and cranberry sauce and potatoes in every form imaginable. Matt stayed true to his word and put a little bit of everything on his plate. Everything was delicious, and he forced himself to eat it all, even though he thought he might explode.

After he had finished, his plate and the table were wiped clean before all the main courses were replaced by puddings. "Oh, no," Matt groaned.

Josh grinned maliciously. "What do you want?" He repeated his earlier question. "There's custards and tarts and pies…"

It looked too good to pass up. Braving the possibility of a stomach ache later, Matt reached out to refill his plate.

After the puddings were finished, the table cleared, and the students were relaxing in their seats, Dumbledore stood up again. Half-asleep already, the first half of his speech sounded only like a pleasant buzzing in Matt's ears.

"…We have had two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons—"

"That's the witch who led us across the lake," Josh whispered.

"—We are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Tryouts for the house Quidditch teams will take place on the—"

"Quidditch?" Matt questioned.

"It's a sport, played on broomstick," Josh answered. "Never had much interest in sports myself, but you might find it interesting."

They turned their attention back to the staff table to see Dumbledore had broken off and was looking to a squat lady dressed entirely in pink.

"That's got to be Professor Umbridge," one of Josh's sisters whispered, "she wasn't here last year."

"_Hem, hem,_" Professor Umbridge's cough could be heard over the mutterings that filled the Great Hall. Suddenly aware that she wanted to speak, Dumbledore took a seat. Everyone at the Gryffindor table looked at each other, confused; another teacher had never spoken at the welcoming feast before, especially not a new one.

Umbridge's voice, when she spoke, was high-pitched and breathy; Matt immediately tuned her out. After all, he was very full, and quite tired. He could see a similar look of boredom on Josh's face—in fact, half the table seemed to be sleeping in their seats.

The speech dragged on for far too long. It seemed hours had passed before Umbridge finally cleared her throat one last time and took a seat. There was a moment of silence before everyone realized she had finished, followed by a spattering of applause.

"What was that about?" Matt muttered to Josh.

"Hmm? Oh, I dunno. Probably nothing important, anyway." Josh yawned.

There was one last brief announcement from Dumbledore, and a clattering of noise as everyone got to their feet. "_Finally_," Josh groaned.

"First-years! Follow me, please!" Turning, Matt could see that a girl with bushy hair was speaking—the same girl who had told them to change into their robes on the train. At her side was a tall, gangly boy with a shock of red hair who looked awkwardly out of place. "Over here! We'll show you to the dormitory!"

Along with three other boys and four girls, Matt and Josh slowly made their way towards the older girl. "Alright," she said once they had gathered. "Stay close to Ron and me, please. It's easy to get lost in the halls."

They didn't have to be reminded twice; as soon as they had exited the Great Hall they were surrounded by long corridors and winding staircases. Matt was far too tired to pay attention to where they were going; his feet dragged on the ground and he stifled several yawns as they made their way through the corridors, at last coming to a stop just outside a painting of a fat lady.

"Password?" the lady in the painting asked, and Matt gasped.

"_Mimbulus mimbletonia,_" the girl with bushy hair replied, and the portrait swung upon, revealing a round hole in the wall.

"What are you waiting for?" the red-haired boy said. "Step on through, it won't hurt you."

On the other side of the portrait hole was a round room that had several couches and chairs surrounding a crackling fire. The room was mostly empty; the older students had, for the most part, already gone up to their dormitories. At the back end of the room were two doorways.

"Boys follow Ron, girls follow me," the girl ordered, and the first-years obediently split up into two lines. The red-haired boy, Ron, led Matt and Josh and the other boys through one door. On the other side was a winding staircase, curving up the tower walls.

"Here's your dormitory," Ron said, stopping outside a door on the third level that had a placard on the front saying "First-years." "Your luggage should already be inside. Well," he said as they all stood around. "That's it, then. Go on inside."

The boy with sandy hair pulled the door open, and they all followed through after him.

The dormitory was round, with five four-poster beds spread out against the walls. All the boys were too tired to say much as they located their trunks at the foot of the bed and changed into their pyjamas.

"Goodnight," Matt muttered to the room at large. After that he stumbled into his bed and pulled the hangings shut around him. Full of a satisfying meal and a long day, he had no trouble falling asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: The pacing of this story will pick up over the next couple of chapters, or else it'll end up being several thousand chapters long :P I promise to introduce Mike and Ian in the next chapter, also.<strong>

**As always, tell me what you think, and let me know if you have any ideas!  
><strong>


	3. First Day

**Author's Note: First of all, sorry about the wait. Second of all, I know I said I'd pick up the pace of the chapters, but this whole chapter takes place over breakfast on their first day. So, you know.**

**For those of you who are complete HP junkies that might call me out for any inconsistencies: I know Luna's spectrespecs don't come in until the sixth Harry Potter book, and it was never mentioned in the books what the purpose of them was. I just thought it would be a typical Luna moment. **

**As for the original characters, I hope I did them justice. **

**Disclaimer: the only original characters at this point in time are Thomas, Nicholas, and Brenna (although she may or may not be based on my best friend. *ahem*) Euan Abercrombie is a name used in the actual HP book, but as he doesn't have an actual role in the Order of the Phoenix, I made up his personality. **

**I think that's it. I'll let you read now.**

* * *

><p>Matt was awakened by the weight of Josh landing on the end of his bed. "First day!" Josh was hollering at the top of his lungs, much to the irritation of the other boys in the room.<p>

"Calm down, mate," one of the boys grumbled while another grunted and turned over.

"It would be nice if you'd get off my bed," Matt asked politely. "What are you so excited about, anyway?"

Josh looked at him in disbelief. "Because it's the first day we get to do actual _magic,_" he said.

"Probably not," one boy pointed out as he sat up on the edge of his bed. "We probably won't even be allowed to use our wands today."

"Whatever," Josh muttered, looking faintly disappointed. After a moment he perked up again. "It'll still be fun, though! I mean, we're at _Hogwarts_." He looked at Matt, who was still lying in bed with his covers pulled up to his chin. "Aren't you excited?"

"A little," Matt said in a squeaky voice. "More nervous, I think." Now that Josh thought about it, he did look a little green.

"It's not like you'll be the only one who doesn't know much magic."

"I don't know _any _magic." Now Matt looked terrified. "Until a month ago, I didn't even know what Hogwarts was. And at first I thought it was some kind of rash." He wrinkled his nose.

"So you're Muggle-born, then?" a boy asked from the other side of the room.

"Er...yeah," Matt said somewhat apprehensively.

The boy grinned. "No worries, mate. My mum was a Muggle. And it's not like you'll know much less than the rest of us—under-age magic is forbidden." His smile was so sincere that Matt couldn't help returning it.

"Now that that's settled," Josh said, hopping off Matt's bed and making his way over to his own, "Can we go down for breakfast? I'm starving."

"If we're going to be spending the next seven years together," Matt began shyly, "maybe we should introduce ourselves."

"Yeah, no problem," said the boy with the Muggle mother. "I'm Nicholas Scharfenburg."

"Matt Webb," Matt said.

"Thomas Williams," said the boy with sandy hair.

"It's too early for this," grumbled the boy who still had his head under the covers, "but I'm Euan Abercrombie."

"Josh Ramsay," Josh said impatiently. "Can we go now?"

"Who made you the boss?" Thomas grumbled.

"My stomach," Josh said. "C'mon, I'm sure I'm not the only one who's hungry."

Matt realized that yes, despite the big meal he'd eaten the night before, he was starving.

Hastily they changed out of their pyjamas and into their school robes, before making their way out of the dormitory. Matt immediately regretted not paying more attention the night before; as soon as they stepped out of the Common Room they were completely lost.

"Where do we go now?" Thomas asked. They were standing at a crossroads between two corridors; directly in front of them, a staircase that led to nowhere descended to hang in midair.

"Er..." Josh looked around, before pointing decidedly to his left. "I think we go this way."

Because they had no other choices, they followed him.

* * *

><p>Michael Ayley ran down the steps of the boys' Ravenclaw dormitory, only to find his best friend waiting for him impatiently in the Common Room.<p>

"Took you long enough," she grumbled. "Can we get down to the Great Hall now? I'm starving."

"Are you sure that's all you want to get down to the Great Hall for?" Mike teased her.

Brenna blushed and glared at him. "Of course," she said.

"But if I went to say hi to Ginny before we ate, you wouldn't be opposed to coming along?"

"I suppose not." Mike grinned.

"I don't understand why you're so smitten with him," he said as they walked down a fourth-story corridor. "Seems like a bit of a git to me. Wouldn't stop glaring at me the whole time I was with Ginny in Diagon Alley."

"He's just protective of his sister," Brenna protested. "I think that's a good trait to have."

"There's protective, and then there's over-protective," Mike muttered. "All I know is I don't need him looking over my shoulder every time Ginny and I go on a date."

"That's why it'd be best for all of us if he dated me," Brenna said, smiling up at him.

"When are you going to realize he doesn't even know you exist?" Mike asked.

"I have realized it. But one day he'll see me. I'm just preparing in advance."

Brenna had been in love with Ron Weasley since the previous year, when her book bag had split open and he had helped her pick up her things. Her admiration had only grown after he had escaped the grindylows at the bottom of the lake during the second Triwizard task. Sure, he was a year above her and only knew her as Ginny's friend, but she knew that one day that would change. They were meant for each other. Or so Brenna kept proclaiming, to Mike's never-ending amusement.

Ginny was already sitting at the Gryffindor table with her three brothers still attending Hogwarts (she had six in total), Harry Potter, who was Ron's best friend, and Hermione Granger.

Mike made his way over to them, Brenna trailing after him. "Hi, Ginny," he greeted her, grinning broadly.

"Don't you go snogging her," Ron warned.

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "Ron, we weren't going to snog. And even if we were, there's nothing you could do about it."

"I still think you're too young for this whole boyfriend business."

"I'm fourteen," Ginny said, rolling her eyes again. "Just because _you've_ been unable to find a girlfriend..."

Ron's face turned almost as red as his hair.

"Ginny, don't tease him about stuff like that," one of her other brothers said seriously—Mike never could tell the difference between the twins.

"Yeah, we all know where Ron's going to end up," said the other.

"Alone—"

"With forty-two cats—"

"In some dodgy flat that smells like cabbages—"

"Where he can't even afford to pay the rent."

"Shut it," Ron said, glowering. Fred and George exchanged high fives and Mike and Brenna looked at each other, amused.

"I don't think that's completely fair," Ginny began, completely serious. "His flat might not smell of cabbage...Ron hates cabbage."

"If you don't watch it," Ron warned, "I'll be putting an end to this thing between you and Michael." For some reason, Ron only called Mike by his full name.

"I don't need your blessing," Ginny retorted.

"How did I ever get involved with this family?" Mike groaned under his breath, and Brenna giggled. She still hadn't said a word, but the others were too busy squabbling to take notice if her anyway.

"Ron, leave Ginny alone and eat your breakfast," Hermione sighed from the other side of the table. "She's right. You have no business deciding who she does or doesn't date."

"Besides, Mike seems like a nice enough bloke," Fred—or maybe it was George—said, punching Mike on the shoulder.

Mike grinned uncertainly at him. "We should get some food, too. We're both hungry."

"See you two in Care of Magical Creatures," Ginny said, and then, looking vindictively at Ron, she reached up to kiss Mike on the cheek.

When they left, Ron was sputtering, the others were laughing, and Ginny was arguing that a kiss on the cheek is _not_ a snog.

"Are you sure you want him?" Mike said as they down at the Ravenclaw table.

Brenna nodded. Ron's actions could be seen as exasperating and frustrating, but she could see his true motives. He loved his sister and was—just a little bit—jealous of her relationship.

"Maybe next time you could try talking to him."

Brenna shrugged and reached for the flask of pumpkin juice. There weren't very many people she talked to on a regular basis, besides Mike. "One day," she replied.

"You might not have time for 'one day'", Mike said. "Not if all this stuff about You-Know-Who coming back is true."

"You don't believe that?"

"I don't want to," he said, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully, "but I think I have to. Ginny believes it, and she's good friends with Harry." A small frown crept onto his face; it was a well-known fact that Ginny used to be in love with Harry Potter. "Do you believe he's back?"

Brenna nodded. "Ron's best friends with Harry, and he believes him. I heard him defending Harry after dinner yesterday."

"And of course if Ron believes him, you have to," Mike teased her.

"I can make my own decisions," Brenna said stiffly. "I just happen to think he's right."

Their conversation was interrupted by a girl with long, straggly dirty-blonde hair sitting at the table next to them. On her face was a pair of large, colourful spectacles.

"Hello, Luna," Brenna greeted her. Luna was a fellow fourth-year Ravenclaw. She was viewed as an oddity and was avoided by most, but both Brenna and Mike tried to be nice to her when they could.

"Hello," Luna said in that dreamy way of hers. "Can't talk now; I'm on the lookout for Wrackspurts." As if to make her point she turned away from them, scanning the hall through her glasses.

Mike snorted into his pumpkin juice and tried to cover it up with a coughing fit. "Good luck," he told her as sincerely as he could, before he met Brenna's eyes and they both grinned.

* * *

><p>Ian Casselman knew something was wrong the moment the five boys stumbled into the Great Hall with Professor Snape right on their heels. Snape, for his part, was furious; his face was even whiter than usual and even from the Hufflepuff table Ian could see his black eyes burning.<p>

"Wonder what they did," Ernie mused, leaning over the table to get a closer look.

"Poor blokes," Hannah murmured. "They look terrified."

"They probably deserved it," Justin said, shrugging. "_Everyone_ knows not to piss off Snape."

"Justin, they're just first-years! They probably don't even know who Snape is."

"Sir, we got lost," one of the boys squeaked, his quiet voice barely audible in the now-silent hall.

"Likely story," Snape said, sneering.

"Truly!" one of the other boys protested.

"Don't talk back to those who are above you, boy," Snape said, his eyes glittering dangerously. "Ten points from Gryffindor! _Each._"

The hall, which had been completely silent as people watched the confrontation was suddenly loud again; laughter could be heard coming from the Slytherin table and angry mutters from the Gryffindor's. It was unheard of for points to be lost before classes had even begun.

"At least it wasn't Hufflepuff," Ernie said in his usual pompous manner. "But of course, a Hufflepuff would never lose points on the first day."

Ian ignored him. He felt bad for the boys; it was their first day and most likely they _had_ just gotten lost. But then he shrugged to himself. It wasn't like he could do anything anyway—he was in a different house and a different year. Pushing the matter from his mind, he turned his attention back to his breakfast.

* * *

><p>"What did you <em>do<em>?" a second-year asked as the first-years approached the Gryffidor table.

"Walked in on Professor Snape in the loo," Matt said, his face bright red with humiliation. Everyone within hearing range let out a shout of laughter.

"But we really were lost," Josh defended.

The second-year boy snorted into his cereal. "How do you mistake a lavatory for the Great Hall?"

"It was our only option left! We'd already run into walls pretending to be doors, why not staircases pretending to be lavatories?"

"It's all Josh's fault," Thomas said. "He's the one that led us in the wrong direction in the first place."

"Not like the rest of you knew where we were going!"

"Plenty of first-years get lost on the first day," a third-year girl reassured them. "Although I don't think it's ever ended in quite that manner before." She giggled.

"Typical," Nicholas muttered.

Matt brightened up. "Well, at least Snape brought us down to the Great Hall, and we haven't missed breakfast yet."

"Too bad it cost Gryffindor fifty points," a girl said. "I don't think a house has ever been in the _negatives_ before. Definitely not by breakfast on the first day!"

"We'll make the points up, and beat Slytherin for the House Cup, like we always do," said another boy offhandedly.

"Is the House Cup a big deal?" Matt asked, perplexed.

"Absolutely. Especially beating Slytherin."

"Trust me, what you guys have done is nothing," said a fifth-year boy with rather large teeth. "In our first year, me and Harry and Hermione lost one hundred and fifty points for the house in one night. Fifty points each. No one would speak to us for weeks."

Josh gaped. _Harry Potter_ had lost points for Gryffindor?

He wasn't aware he had spoken aloud until Harry himself leaned down the table and smiled at him. "Yeah, loads of times. You get used to it, after awhile. People are still realizing that I'm not as great as they think I am. Or as terrible," he added under his breath.

Josh realized that there were probably some people who were more likely to believe the rubbish the _Daily Prophet _spewed out over Harry's story. Well, he wasn't one of those people. Tentatively, he smiled back at him.

Suddenly Matt let out a burst of laughter. "Seeing Snape's face when we walked in on him was probably worth it," he said, giggling.

"I'd be wary of Snape," a sixth-year boy told them seriously. "He's always had it out for Gryffindors. He'll probably have a personal vendetta against you five for the rest of your time at Hogwarts."

"Is he really that bad?" Euan asked, looking nervous.

"Worse," the boy told him.

Presently, McGonagall left the staff table to hand out their timetables. "Classes start in half an hour," she said. "I suggest you don't be late." She looked sternly at the five first-years and they all gulped and nodded up at her.

"McGonagall scares me," Matt admitted after she left.

"She's strict, but one of the best teachers here," a boy told him. "You'll see."

Matt was sure he would see; looking down at his schedule he saw he had Transfiguration with McGonagall first, followed by Potions with the Slytherins. In the afternoon they had Herbology and Charms with the Ravenclaws.

"Maybe we should leave now, so we don't show up late," Thomas said. "We'll probably end up getting lost again." He glared at Josh.

"Okay." Josh laughed. "But this time, _I'm_ not leading."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Finally you guys get to meet the other band members! I know Ian's piece was ridiculously short, and I apologize. He'll get more. **

**As a note: Mike has taken the place of Michael Corner, AKA Ginny's boyfriend during Order of the Phoenix. Ian's managed to fit himself quite nicely into the Ernie/Hannah/Justin friendship of Hufflepuff. Yes, he's a fifth year. **

**Please tell me what you think! Reviews are lovely. Plot/character suggestions are also always welcome!**


	4. Flying Lessons

**Author's Note: Super, super sorry about the delayed update. I got distracted...as in, I got an awesome idea for a new book and spent over a week planning it out. But now I'm back at this and I'm hoping to update more frequently. Although I have a busy month, so please bear with me. Also, I'm sorry for any awkward phrasing for this chapter. It wasn't flowing and I didn't feel like fixing it.**

**We left the boys at the end of their first day at Hogwarts. So far, their first week has gone swimmingly. Until...**

* * *

><p>Beginning that Friday, McGonagall informed them during Thursday's Transfiguration lesson, all the first-years would be taking flying lessons.<p>

There was an immediate hubbub of noise, and it took McGonagall several minutes to calm them all down.

"The lessons will begin immediately after lunch," she announced, "every Friday for the next eight weeks. Accommodations to your schedules have been made."

"_Yes!_" Josh hissed, after a quick glance at their schedule. They had Potions immediately after lunch on Fridays. They had already had two Potions lessons that week, and the sixth year boy hadn't been kidding about Snape's vindictiveness. He had taken a point from Gryffindor because Josh's hat was crooked and another because Matt hadn't yet memorized the textbook. Euan had lost five for not speaking loud enough and had almost burst into tears.

"Flying can be dangerous," she continued, pointedly ignoring Josh's remark, "as I'm sure Madam Hooch with tell you. Failure to comply with rules will result in detention and possible suspension."

Matt and Josh shared glances. Despite the harsh consequences, flying seemed like the most exciting thing they would be learning at Hogwarts—and they had already learned a lot in their first week. In their very first transfiguration lesson, they had attempted to turn a matchstick into a needle, although Thomas had predicted they wouldn't use magic on their first day. No one had succeeded, a fact that didn't seem to surprise Professor McGonagall.

"It's extraordinary for a student to achieve that on the first day," she had told them. "But one day you'll be able to transfigure things like this—" And she had turned her desk into a pig, to the awe of the class.

Transfiguration was quickly becoming one of Matt's favourite lessons. McGonagall _was_ a good teacher, although she was strict; although she was Head of Gryffindor House she cut them no slack, unlike Snape who, as Head of Slytherin, was always giving his house points.

Defence Against the Dark Arts, which everyone had been looking forward to, turned out to be complete rubbish. Umbridge talked to them like they were five in her sickly sweet, high-pitched voice, and spent all class writing on the board. It was understandable that on their first day they wouldn't use their wands; by Wednesday, their wands remained in their bags and one girl got up the courage to ask when they would start doing practical work.

Umbridge had given them a wide smile that didn't reach her eyes, before saying, "Never, my dear. A new curriculum has been instated by the Ministry this year. This course will focus purely on theoretical work."

"Isn't that a little odd?" Josh whispered to Matt. "I mean, if You-Know-Who really is back, shouldn't we be learning—"

He was cut off by Umbridge, who cleared her throat with a little _hem, hem._ "Ten points from Gryffindor," she said in her fluttery voice, but her beady eyes were glittering. "If you speak out again, Mr. Ramsay, you'll find yourself in detention."

Josh gulped. "Yes, Professor," he muttered. He had a feeling that detention with Umbridge would be terribly boring

.

It was a difficult choice, for the first years, to decide which teacher they liked least, Umbridge or Snape. The worst day of the week by far was Tuesday, when they had double Defence Against the Dark Arts, followed by Potions and History of Magic. History of Magic was taught by a ghost, which was interesting at first, until they learned that he wouldn't stop his lectures even if the castle was on fire. Josh seriously considered setting the castle on fire during one of Professor Binn's boring lectures, just to see if he could get a reaction out of the ghost.

Despite those negatives, being at Hogwarts was everything Josh expected it to be, and more. Even being late for class because of an encounter with Peeves the poltergeist was exciting, although he did lose house points for it. Throughout the first week he annoyed his roommates by consistently waking them up by jumping on their beds, and by Thursday Matt was the only one talking to him. This was okay though, because the two were quickly becoming best friends.

On Friday, all the first-years were out on the Quidditch pitch early to eagerly await their flying lessons.

"I wonder what it feels like to fly," Josh whispered to Matt, his eyes on the high hoops at the end of the Quidditch pitch.

"I've flown in an aeroplane before," Matt replied, "but this is probably nothing like that."

Josh looked at him quizzically. "Aeroplane?"

"It's like..." Matt struggled to find the words to describe it. "It's like a train or a car, but it flies. We use it to travel far distances."

"I still can't believe the things Muggles can do without magic." Josh shook his head. "Whenever we need to get somewhere far away, we just use a Portkey. Or the adults can Apparate."

Now it was Matt's turn to look confused, but before Josh could explain, Madam Hooch walked out onto the pitch.

"Afternoon!" she called out to them, and they chorused it back to her. "Now, I'm sure you're all excited, but flying can be dangerous business. You are to listen carefully to my instructions and never do anything without being told. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Madam Hooch," the first years chorused back to her.

She nodded, smiling at them. "Right this way, please."

She led them towards the broom shed, where a large number of brooms were lined up neatly against the wall. "Take one, and then follow me back to the pitch."

The feeling of the broom was awkward in Matt's hand, the handle lacquered and smooth enough to keep sliding out of his grip. He looked at it dubiously. "Is this safe?"

"Perfectly," Josh assured him. "Mostly. It's great fun, you'll see." Josh had never actually been flying, but he had seen enough Quidditch matches over the years to know that it _looked_ like great fun.

Madam Hooch had them stand in a line once they got back to the pitch and place their brooms by their feet.

"Hold your hand out over your broom, like so," she ordered, demonstrating. "On my command, say 'Up!'"

"Up!" chorused a number of voices. For a couple of people, their brooms jumped immediately into their hands. Matt's wiggled on the ground a little bit; Josh's didn't move at all.

"Again!" Madam Hooch ordered.

"Up!" This time, Matt's broom leapt into his hand. Josh was staring at his perplexedly. It hadn't moved at all.

"How'd you do that?" he hissed, seeing the smug grin on Matt's face. Matt just shrugged; he wasn't entirely sure.

The lesson continued in a similar manner until everyone had managed to command their brooms into their hands. "Excellent," Madam Hooch said, surveying them. "Now mount them...like so..."

She walked up and down the line, correcting their grip on the broom handle. After they were all set, she showed them how to take off. "Rise a couple of feet and then come back down by leaning forward. On my whistle."

The whistle blew shrilly, and Matt was surprised when he took off with ease to hover several feet above the ground. Obediently, he leaned forward and the broom instantly responded to his touch.

"This is brilliant," he said to Josh when his feet touched back on the ground.

Josh looked faintly disappointed. "Not as exciting as I hoped," he said.

"This is our first lesson," Matt reminded him. "It'll get exciting by the end, I bet."

The thought seemed to raise Josh's hopes. "How'd you get so good anyway?" he asked. "I thought you knew nothing about flying."

"Dunno," Matt said, shrugging but looking pleased with himself. "Just got lucky, I guess."

"Lucky," sneered a dark-haired Slytherin boy who had evidently been listening to their conversation. "That's how it is for all you Mudbloods, isn't it? Honestly, I'm shocked you're still allowed to attend the school. One day—"

The rest of his sentence was cut off as Josh lunged at him, before Matt had even finished processing what the boy had said.

Josh had tackled the boy to the ground and was now sitting astride him, hitting his face repeatedly with his fists. "Don't you _ever_ use that word again," he was hissing. "Matt's a better wizard than you'll ever be, I'd bet..."

Confused, Matt looked at the others. They all wore various expressions of shock and disgust, and a few of the Slytherins looked pleased; he still wasn't sure what the boy had said that had made Josh react like that. Mudblood? He didn't even know what that was.

"Break it up!" Madam Hooch yelled, running over to them and pulling Josh off the Slytherin boy. She held them apart as Josh continued to glare at the other boy, who was sporting a split lip and a bruised eye. "Mr. Ramsay, Mr. Falkins, come with me. We're seeing Professor McGonagall. I've no idea what prompted such behaviour from either of you." As she led them off the pitch she shouted over her shoulder, "Lesson's over! Put your brooms back in the shed, if you would."

"Falkins had it coming," one boy from Ravenclaw whispered. "Bloody foolish, that was."

"Did you see the way Ramsay jumped him?"

"You're all idiots," another Slytherin boy snapped. "Muggle-lovers, the lot of you. When You-Know-Who returns—"

"He hasn't returned, has he?" one girl asked, looking terrified.

"Of course not," another scoffed. "What proof do we have? Harry Potter's an attention-seeking git, everyone knows that, and Dumbledore's a mad old fool for believing him."

Feeling slightly sick, Matt wandered away from the others, putting his broom back in the shed before heading back up to the castle alone.

* * *

><p>Josh didn't show up for Charms at all that afternoon, and Matt didn't get a chance to speak to him until Herbology. When he showed up just before the lesson was due to start, his face was dark with suppressed anger.<p>

"I've got two weeks detention with Filch and that git," he said to Matt in a low voice as they set out their materials. "McGonagall looked sympathetic, but I guess there's a school rule against fighting or something."

"What about Falkins?" Matt asked. "Surely he got a worse punishment than you."

"He lost twenty points for Slytherin. And McGonagall won't let him go to Madam Pomfrey to get his lip and eye fixed—they have to heal naturally." This prospect seemed to cheer Josh up significantly.

"I'm sorry for getting you in trouble—" Matt began, but Josh waved him off.

"What did you do? You're just naturally good at flying, that's all. Besides, he deserves it, and I don't really mind the detention."

"What did he say that was so bad?" Matt asked hesitantly.

"What didn't he say?" Josh sighed. "He questioned your magical ability because you're Muggle-born—and he called you a Mudblood."

"What does that mean exactly?" Matt could tell from Josh's expression that it was hardly a term of endearment.

"It means dirty-blooded. It's what some people call Muggle-borns because they don't have magical parents, and it's extremely offensive." Matt nodded; that would explain Josh's reaction. "See, there's some people who believe that it's wrong for wizards to mate with Muggles, and even more wrong for a wizard to have no magical blood at all."

"Is there something wrong with it?" Matt asked, looking worried.

"No! Not at all," Josh assured him hurriedly. "It's just—some wizards think that Muggles are below us, and wizards should only mate with each other. And of course, if a wizard has two Muggle parents, there must be something wrong with them...Mostly Slytherins think that way," he added under his breath.

Matt still looked worried.

"Look, you're already a better flier than me, right? And both my parents are pure-blood. Of course, I never was one for sports..." Seeing a small smile creep onto Matt's face, Josh added, "And you're just as good as everyone else in all our other classes. Some of the best wizards and witches are Muggle-born."

"Boys! Attention to the front!" Professor Sprout called, having finally had enough of their whispered conversation.

Obediently, they turned to her, and spent the rest of the lesson listening to a lecture on Devil's Snare.

* * *

><p>Josh left dinner early that evening to go to his detention. Matt wished him luck, still feeling as if it were in some way his fault, and Josh smiled grimly at him. He knew an evening spent with Filch, the castle's cantankerous old caretaker, and Falkins would be less than pleasant.<p>

He made his way slowly towards McGonagall's office, where McGonagall, Filch, and Falkins were already waiting.

"What should the punishment be?" Filch leered as he entered. "Shall we hang them up by the dungeons by their ankles?"

"Filch!" McGonagall said sharply. "They'll be polishing all the suits of armour on the fifth floor, by hand."

Falkins groaned, but Josh thought it didn't sound that bad. Filch's idea of punishment sounded much, much worse.

"One day," Filch was muttering under his breath as they left the room. Josh figured he had conversations with himself similar to this frequently; most of the school already thought he was off his rocker.

Filch left them alone together at the top of the fifth floor corridor with clothes and polish. "Come, Mrs. Norris," he said to the cat that never left his side. "We've got rule breakers to catch. Lead the way..."

Both students watched him go, talking to his cat all the while. "He's mad," Falkins said once he was out of sight.

Although Josh agreed wholeheartedly with him, he was still angry with the boy and turned on him. "Who're you to call him mad?"

"Well, he is. Always wandering around with that cat of his—"

"Maybe _you're_ mad."

Falkins' eyes flashed. "At least I'm not a blood traitor," he spat. "At least I don't become friends with Mudbloods."

For the second time that day, Josh leapt at him. "Don't...use...that...word!" he growled as he tackled Falkins to the ground.

"Who's gonna stop me?" the Slytherin boy challenged. He looked around swiftly before reaching for his wand. "Not you, I don't think. Why, you might as well be a Mudblood yourself."

Josh looked at the wand tip that was pointed at his face. They hadn't learned many spells yet, but...He quickly scrambled of Falkins and pulled his own wand out of his pocket.

He wasn't expecting what Falkins did next in the least. Foregoing the wand in his hand, Falkins leapt at Josh, throwing him backwards into a suit of armour which then clattered loudly to the floor. Josh tasted blood as Falkins' fist crashed into his mouth.

"Does your blood taste dirty?" Falkins taunted. Growling incoherently, Josh reached up to wrap his hands around the other boy's throat.

"My, my, what have we here?" said a soft voice behind them. Freezing, both boys turned their heads to see Filch standing at the end of the corridor, Mrs. Norris winding around his feet. "More detention for the both of you, I'd think."

Indeed, when McGonagall turned up she added another week to each of their detentions. They spent the rest of the evening at opposite ends of the corridor, carefully watched by Filch, who spent his time muttering about the benefits of torture instead of detention.

It was after midnight when Josh finally stumbled his way back to the dormitory. All the other boys were already asleep and he fell into his bed, fully clothed. He could feel his lip swelling and promised himself he wouldn't tell Matt the cause of this fight—it would just make him feel worse. But he did vow to himself that he would put Falkins in his rightful place, if it was the last thing he did.

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><p><strong>AN: Looks like Josh has made a new enemy. Let me know what you think!**


	5. Hogwarts Choir and Music Club

**Author's Note: Tonight was just a wonderful overload of Marianas Trench and Harry Potter. And next week I'll be watching the final Harry Potter film and seeing Marianas Trench almost back to back. Ha. **

**Anyway, enjoy. I'm rather fond of this chapter.**

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><p>Josh's grand scheme for the next morning involved waking up before the others and seeing Madam Pomfrey about getting his lip fixed before Matt noticed. He didn't want to explain how he had gotten into another fight; he didn't need Matt to be more concerned than he already was about his blood status and besides, this was Josh's battle to fight.<p>

However, his plan was ruined by the needs of his exhausted body. A long first week at Hogwarts, two fights, and a late night the night before resulted in Josh oversleeping on his first Saturday at school. When he woke up at eleven, the other boys were already up and had left the room for breakfast. All the boys except Matt, that was. He was sitting on the edge of his bed flipping through one of his textbooks when Josh opened his eyes.

"What happened to your lip?" was the first thing he asked, and Josh groaned internally.

"Not sure," he said nonchalantly. "Didn't know there was something wrong with it, to be honest."

Matt looked at him shrewdly, and Josh could tell he wasn't buying his flippant excuse. "Does this have something to do with your detention last night?"

"Falkins was being a prat," Josh grumbled, deciding on telling the truth now that his plan had been foiled. "He had it coming to him."

"Except this time it looks like _he_ gave it to _you_," Matt pointed out. "Look, if this is about the Mudblood thing again, let it go. I don't need you fighting my battles for me."

"He insulted me too," Josh insisted. "Called me a blood traitor and everything."

"Well, maybe this is _our_ battle, then," Matt said. "But let's try to stay out of fights—we'll have to find a better way to get revenge. Did you get more detentions?"

"Another week's worth."

Matt sighed and shook his head, although there was a small smile on his face. "We've been at school for a week, mate," he said. "How'd you manage to get three weeks worth of detention already?"

Josh only shrugged. The three weeks were sure to be a pain, but he still didn't regret what he had done (even if his lip was currently throbbing rather fiercely). "Let's get some breakfast," he said, changing the subject. "I'm starving."

It was already late in the morning—later than the usual breakfast hour, at any rate—and Matt thought most students would have already left the castle, but a fair number were crowded around a bulletin board in the Entrance Hall. As they drew closer, Matt saw why: it was the first Saturday of term, and a list of notices for the year had been posted. As he was shorter than the others, Matt had to force his way to the front of the crowd in order to read it.

There was a list of school rules followed by objects that had been banned, that Matt quickly skimmed through.

Quidditch tryouts would be beginning the next Saturday, and any students who were interested were to contact their Head of House. Although Matt thought Quidditch looked interesting (even though he had yet to learn all the rules), he had already been informed that first-years were generally not allowed on the team. The last person to make the team as an eleven-year-old was Harry Potter, and apparently he was a phenomenal flyer. On top of being the Boy who Lives and the Chosen One, Matt thought wryly.

Following the notice about Quidditch was a list of school clubs that would be starting up soon. Potions Club, Wizard Chess Club, Study Club...Matt scrolled through the list until one item caught his eye.

Hogwarts Choir and Music Club.

Matt had already been playing piano (against his will) for several years, but one instrument he wanted to learn how to play was guitar. Music fascinated him—he couldn't help but wonder what the difference between Muggle music and Wizard music was, if there was one. The idea interested him, and he turned and squirmed his way out of the crowd.

"What do you think about joining the Choir and Music Club?" he asked Josh.

Josh scrunched up his nose. "Choir's for girls."

"You already sound like a girl," Matt pointed out. It was true; he had heard Josh singing to himself when he though no one was listening, and his voice was unnaturally high for a boy of his age. Seeing Josh's scowl, Matt hastily added, "In a good way, of course."

"My whole family sings," Josh admitted. "But that doesn't mean I should join a choir."

"I think we should check it out." Matt didn't know why the idea appealed to him so much; music had always been a passion of his, even if he had only heard Muggle music before. And he liked to sing—even if he would never, ever admit that to someone.

Josh stared at him suspiciously. "Why do _you_ want to join choir?"

Matt flushed, but was saved from responding by a boy who had apparently overheard their conversation. "Choir's not so bad," he said. From his uniform it was obvious he was in Ravenclaw, and looked to be several years older than them. "It can be quite fun—Flitwick's in charge, and sometimes even Dumbledore stops by."

"Dumbledore?" Josh brightened up at the mention of his role model. "It might be alright," he allowed. "When does it start?"

"Tomorrow night at eight," said a red-haired girl who was standing next to the boy. "In the Charms classroom."

"Oh." Josh managed to look both saddened and relieved. "I have detention. You can go without me," he said to Matt.

Looking disappointed, Matt nodded."I'll save you a spot."

"See you there," the Ravenclaw boy said.

"I suppose so," Matt said, before leaving with Josh for the Great Hall.

"About time," Josh groaned as they sank into their seats at the Gryffindor table. Instantly he began piling food onto his plate.

"Maybe that'll teach you not to sleep in," Matt said, filling his own plate. "Which is odd enough, considering every other day you managed to wake us up before dawn."

"I got back late last night," Josh defended himself. "And I couldn't sleep because you were snoring so loudly—"

"I don't snore," Matt interrupted. "I think Thomas might, though."

There was a squawk and a flutter of wings from above them, and Josh looked up to see Pipsqueak spiralling towards him. The owl landed in front of his plate and held out his leg. An envelope and small package were attached to it with a piece of twine. Josh could feel a grin suffusing his face as he tore open the letter and scanned through it.

_Dear Josh,_

_Congratulations on making Gryffindor, dear! Your father and I are so proud. _

_I hope your first week at Hogwarts is going just wonderfully. Have you made any friends yet? Don't be shy, dear._

_We miss you loads already. Remember to wash behind your ears—I know you're always forgetting that. _

_Lots of love,_

_Mum._

At the end was a small post-script:

_P.S. Share the sweets. You know how you get when you have too much sugar. _

"It's from my mum," he said in response to Matt's questioning look. "Here." He tossed Matt the package and carefully folded up the letter, tucking it into his robes.

"Enjoy it while you can," Matt said, surveying the pile of sweets laid out in front of him. "Once she hears of your detentions she won't be sending any more treats or nice letters."

Josh groaned at the reminder. He was sure Hogwarts had already notified his parents and the next letter he received would be full of his mother's anger and disappointment—and as sweet as she could be, her rages were something to be avoided.

With a small hoot, Pipsqueak gently pecked him on the hand. "Alright, alright," Josh said, grimacing. "Give me a second." He ruffled through his bag before pulling out a wrinkled piece of parchment and a quill. Finding a clear space on the table, he quickly penned a reply.

_Hi Mum,_

_Hogwarts has been brilliant so far. I met another boy on the train on the train and we both ended up in Gryffindor and now we're pretty good friends. Actually, he's reading this over my shoulder right now._

Josh glared at Matt, and Matt hastily turned his attention to his breakfast.

_Classes have been interesting, but hard, and I already have loads of homework. Yesterday we started flying lessons and Matt (my new friend) and I are going to join the Choir and Music Club. _

For a moment Josh debated about telling her about the incident, but then decided that she had already heard about his detentions—she might as well know his side of the story.

_Yesterday, a Slytherin boy called Matt a Mudblood, and said that his magic was luck. That's why I got my detentions, if you're wondering, but I did manage to give him a black eye. _

Josh hoped his mum would look past the violence and see that he was really just standing up for his friend.

_Thanks for the chocolates. I promise not to eat too many—at least not all at once. And I'll try to remember to wash behind my ears, but you know no one actually looks back there._

_I miss you, too. Already looking forward to Christmas Break._

_Love, Josh._

"That's very sweet," Matt said, smirking as Josh rolled up the letter and tied it to Pipsqueak's leg.

"I try," Josh said, watching as Pipsqueak flew towards the great windows and disappeared from sight. He turned his attention back to his food. "Now I can _finally_ eat in peace."

"It's amazing how you stay so skinny," Matt observed as Josh shovelled the food into his mouth.

* * *

><p>Josh wasn't exaggerating about the homework—there were piles of it waiting for them up in their dormitory, but it was Saturday and beautiful out so they decided to explore the Hogwarts grounds instead, after Josh made a quick visit to Madam Pomfrey to get his swollen lip fixed.<p>

"A giant squid lives in that lake," Josh said, pointing. "Sara says she's seen him several times. And over there," he said, pointing down the sloping lawns to the thick trees, "is the Forbidden Forest. It's banned to students because not even Dumbledore knows all the dark creatures that live in there. I know there're Centaurs and Unicorns for sure—"

"Those actually exist?" Matt asked, wide-eyed.

"Of course!" Josh laughed. "The Ministry goes to extremes to keep them hidden from Muggles, though."

They wandered past the Quidditch pitch, where several students were taking advantage of the nice weather to practice flying. Matt looked up at them longingly; during the flying lessons the day before he had hardly gotten off the ground. He thought flying was something he could come to love, given enough practice.

The castle grounds were huge, and it took them most of the afternoon to see it all. That evening, they played Exploding Snap in the Common Room until Josh had to leave for his detention, and then with reluctance Matt finally cracked open his Potions textbook and started on a foot-long paper.

Sunday found them holed up in the Common Room, surrounded by textbooks and rolls of parchment.

"Ugh," Josh cried, throwing down his quill, "if this is the homework for the first week, what's it going to be like for the next seven years?"

"We'll get used to it," Matt said absentmindedly, marking down a final note on his Transfiguration homework. To be honest, he didn't find the homework load that bad, although he had started the night before and was working at a steady pace—whereas Josh seemed to be spending half his time doodling cats on scrap pieces of parchment.

"I've had enough of this for now," Josh said decisively. "Wanna play another game of Exploding Snap?"

Matt looked dubiously at the small amount of homework Josh had actually completed before shrugging; actually finishing the homework was Josh's problem, not his. "Sure," he said.

Josh left immediately after dinner that night to serve his detention—apparently they had split him and Falkins up and he was now under the watch of McGonagall, a situation which suited him much better. Matt headed up to the Common Room with the other first-years, although he wasn't nearly as close to them as he was to Josh, to kill time before the Choir and Music Club meeting.

Shortly before eight o'clock, Matt left the Common Room to go find the Charms classroom. He found himself hesitating outside the door, overcome by a sudden case of nerves. He wished Josh had been able to come with him tonight—he knew no one else who wanted to join the choir. After a moment he steeled himself and pushed through the door.

There were a handful of students gathered inside the room. Looking around, Matt could see that the classroom had transformed; the desks were pushed against the walls, and several sets of risers had taken their place. This is where the students were seated, and Matt recognized the boy and girl from Ravenclaw he had spoken with the day before.

"Mind if I sit with you?" he asked awkwardly, but the boy only smiled at him.

"'Course not," the boy said. "I'm Mike Ayley, by the way."

"Brenna McIvor," The girl on his other side introduced herself, shooting him a small smile.

"Matt Webb," Matt said, staring down at the toes of his trainers. A silence fell over them and after a moment Matt glanced up at them shyly. "So you've both been in choir before?"

"Since our first year," Mike said, nodding. "We've all grown pretty close over the years. May I ask why you wanted to join, though? We're hardly at the top of the social pile, those of us in the club."

Matt could feel himself blushing. "I grew up in a Muggle family," he said, "and I've been doing piano lessons since I was six or seven. But I always thought music was magic, before I even knew magic existed."

His statement had turned out significantly cheesier than he had hoped and he felt himself turning a deeper shade of red before he noticed that Mike was grinning in a friendly manner at him.

"I grew up with Muggles too, mate. I think that's why I was so drawn to music in the first place, as well. There's something about the way it makes me feel..." He trailed off into silence.

After it was evident no other students would show up—there were perhaps twenty already in the room—Professor Flitwick closed the door with a flick of his wand and cleared his throat to get the attention of the students.

"Welcome to another year of Hogwarts Choir and Music Club!" he squeaked from the front of the classroom. "I've got some wonderful things planned for us this year. Already arrangements are being made for us to perform at various school functions—"

Matt could feel himself relax as Flitwick spoke. He could feel excitement growing within him as the professor mentioned the instruments available at the school to be used by students and the vocal training sessions they would have. He didn't care if being in this club made him a girl or a loser. He was sure it would be the best part of his year.

The first meeting lasted only an hour. For the most part Flitwick talked about the rules and opportunities presented by the club. After a while, Matt tuned him out, and focused instead on all the instruments he would get to play and the music he would be exposed to.

After Flitwick finished speaking, they all introduced themselves. Matt noticed that there were a few other Gryffindors, but not many; for the most part the crowd seemed to be made up of Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

"Remember! Next Sunday at eight!" Professor Flitwick cried as they filed out the door at nine o'clock.

"Will your friend be joining us next week?" Brenna asked after they had exited the classroom.

"Not for a couple weeks yet," Matt laughed, feeling suddenly giddy. "He managed to land himself detention for three weeks."

Mike raised his eyebrows. "How'd he do that?"

"Some bloke called me a Mudblood," Matt shrugged, "and Josh jumped him. Twice, I think."

Brenna breathed in sharply and Mike narrowed his eyes. "There has always been discrimination against our kind," Mike said, "but it's gotten worse this past half year, since rumours of You-Know-Who's return started circulating."

Both of their reactions surprised Matt; he had thought Josh had overreacted and that was all. "It's really not a big deal," he said. "I've been called names before."

"You don't understand," Mike said. "This is different. Worse."

But he refused to expand, and when Matt turned to head back to the Gryffindor Tower alone he was left with a vague feeling of unease.

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><p><strong>AN: You know, it's a lot easier to write this if you guys give me opinions... *hint hint* Leave a review or drop a line in my ask box on tumblr. Please. Just so I know I actually have readers. Story plots and various escapade ideas are always welcome as well. **


	6. The High Inquisitor

**Author's Note: Finally, a new chapter! I've been working on it for ages, but haven't been able to finish due to the insanity that is I Won't Say Anything at All (which, if you haven't checked out yet, you definitely should). Until that story is done, updates for this story will probably be slow, but I AM still working on it, I promise.  
><strong>

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><p>Josh was scrubbing the toilets in the third floor's boys' washroom (McGonagall had tried to get him to do the girls', but he had flat-out refused) when he overheard the conversation.<p>

"She's a real witch, that one," grumbled a boy's voice from the corridor outside. "And I don't mean in a magical way, either."

"Does it hurt?" a girl asked sympathetically.

The boy hissed in pain. "Like hell."

"Go to Dumbledore," the girl urged him. "This can't be—what she's doing to you, it's not _right._"

"There's nothing Dumbledore can do." The boy laughed bitterly. "Haven't you heard the rumour that's been floating around the school? She's here because of the Ministry, to watch the school—but mostly to watch Dumbledore. The Ministry's convinced he's a crackpot, and not fit to run the school. They're trying to take over here. He can't fight against her."

"McGonagall, then—"

"And what could she do? Pat me on the head and tell me to be a good boy in the future?"

"Everyone hates her, you know."

Josh already had a pretty good idea of who they were talking about, but his suspicions were confirmed when the boy said, "Of course they do. She's a bloody awful teacher; she wouldn't even be here if Dumbledore had been able to find another Defence replacement. He had no choice but to accept the Ministry's offer, and look what that's gotten us. High Inquisitor—"

There was a sound, as if the boy had spat, followed by a silence.

"At least you could—" the girl's anxious voice said.

"Leave it alone, Em," the boy said, sounding tired. "I'll be fine."

Nothing more was said, and soon enough the students' retreating footsteps could be heard down the corridor. Josh was left in silence, pondering what he'd overheard.

Matt was still awake when he arrived back at the tower shortly before midnight. He was lying on his bed with his Potions text propped open in front of his nose; there was a deep furrow of concentration between his eyebrows.

"Are you reading that for fun again?" Josh laughed, closing the door softly behind him. The other boys were already asleep; light snores could be heard coming from Thomas' direction.

Matt looked up at his unexpected entrance, blushing fiercely. "You're back early," he said.

"McGonagall let me off a little early, since it was my last night and I've been so well-behaved these past weeks." Josh flopped down onto his own bed, smirking. "Too bad I've yet to be as good as you, staying up till midnight on a Saturday reading a textbook."

"Potions is interesting," Matt defended himself. "I mean, Snape's horrible, of course, but the subject itself—"

"You're such a nerd," Josh said, shaking his head.

Matt glowered at him, before brightening up considerably. "Tonight was your last detention!" he said, as if he'd only just realized.

"Yes," Josh said, sounding bored, "I'd just said that."

Matt's excitement was undimmed. "This means you can come to Choir with me tomorrow!" It would be only their fourth meeting of the year, but already the Sunday night meetings were the best part of Matt's week.

"I suppose so. I'll get to see what you find so brilliant about that club." Josh yawned and turned over, before starting. "Oh! I forgot to tell you—I overheard something interesting tonight, while cleaning the boys' toilets." He ignored Matt's amused snort, and leaned closer to him, conspiratorially. "About Umbridge."

"I could have guessed as much," Matt said, when Josh had finished his story. "We already knew she worked for the Ministry."

"Yes, but it's more than that," Josh insisted. "The Ministry is trying to _take over_ the school. They could be trying to get Dumbledore to leave."

"We don't know that." Matt set his Potions textbook carefully on the floor before blowing out the lamp he'd been reading by. "It's late; we should try to sleep."

"Fine," Josh grumbled, although he was in truth quite sleepy as well. "I'll talk to you in the morning, I s'pose."

There was no response; Matt had already fallen asleep.

"I don't know why you insist on being part of that club, Ian," Hannah Abbot said, her eyes trained on her essay. "This is our OWL year; you need to be focusing on your classes."

"Says the girl with Prefect duties," Ian scoffed as he packed up his homework into his bag.

"Being a Prefect is something else entirely," Ernie MacMillan said seriously. "It's a great responsibility, a privilege—"

Used to such speeches from Ernie, Ian only waved him off, standing and swinging his bag over his shoulder. "I'll be back later," he said before leaving the Hufflepuff common room.

He couldn't have said why being part of the Choir was so important to him; but it was one place he felt like he belonged, even more than when he was with his friends, and he was pretty much average at everything, but music was the one thing he was _good_ at. Hannah and Ernie, who were both smart and who had, after all, both been named Prefect, could never understand that.

At five to eight he arrived outside the Charms classroom. He stepped across the threshold and saw Mike waving to him from the first row of the stands. Brenna was sitting next to him (he had met both her and Mike the previous year) and on Mike's other side was the first-year Gryffindor who Ian had been introduced to just the week before—he thought his name was Matt. Next to Matt was another small boy with dirty blonde hair, who he didn't recognize.

"Hey," Ian said, sitting down just behind them. He turned to the new boy. "I don't think I've seen you here before. I'm Ian."

"Josh," the boy said, accepting his proffered hand.

"Is this your first meeting?"

"Yeah, but only because I've had detention every night for the past three weeks." For some reason, Josh seemed pleased by the thought. "Tonight was the first night Matt's been able to drag me along."

"You'll like it," Matt insisted earnestly.

"I still think choir's for girls," Josh grumbled.

"Watch it," Ian said warningly, smiling. "Neither Mike nor I are girls, and we're both a lot bigger than you." It was true; Josh seemed scrawny, even for a first year.

"Besides, Josh is the most girly one here," Matt put in. "You should hear him when he sings in the shower—" Josh glared at him and Matt stopped talking abruptly, but not before the rest of them were overcome by fits of giggles.

Shortly after eight, Professor Flitwick called the meeting to order, making to close the door with a flick of his wand. Before he could manage, he was interrupted by a little "_hem, hem_" that they all recognized and hated.

"Professor Umbridge," Flitwick said politely. "What can I help you with?"

"Oh, nothing much," she said in her sickly sweet voice. "The Minister has just asked me to check in on all the clubs, make sure they're up to Ministry standards and aren't..." she gave a delicate little cough, "_inappropriate_ for the students to be partaking in, in any way."

Ian shared a glance with Mike; what exactly had she meant by that?

"Well, come on in," Flitwick said genially. "I'm sure there's nothing in here for the Minister to oppose to."

"I'll be the judge of that," said Umbridge, marching past him and into the classroom. Ian noticed she was carrying the clipboard she had taken with her on all her recent teacher inspections; it made him uneasy.

Umbridge made her way over to the corner, conjuring a fluffy pink armchair for her to sit in, and Flitwick promptly turned his attention away from her and back to the class.

"Now," he squeaked, only to be promptly interrupted by Umbridge.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, not sounding like she was sorry at all. "But I think it would be most productive if I talked with the students first, before you began the lesson."

"Certainly," said Flitwick, for the first time sounding a little disgruntled. "Carry on, then."

Umbridge stood up with a smile on her face that showed all her small, pointy teeth. She started with a group of girls sitting at the back. "So," she said in a carrying whisper, "what is exactly that you do in this club?"

"Well, we sing, obviously," one girl said, looking a little nervous. "The Hogwarts Choir performs at feasts and school events throughout the year."

"And we study instruments," her friend added. "Both magical and non-magical."

"I see," Umbridge said noncommittally, before moving away. She spoke to a few more students before stopping in front of Matt and Josh.

"How are you finding the club so far?" she asked them, a wide smile on her toad-like face.

"I love it!" Matt said adamantly, before flushing.

"Uh..." Josh said blankly; obviously, he had only been a part of the club for about five minutes. Umbridge immediately focused in on him.

"Is that all you have to say?" she asked sweetly.

"No, it's just that this is my first meeting—"

"And why's that? I understood that this club started first week of term."

"Detention," Josh muttered, looking away from her.

"You really must speak louder, dear. And be polite."

"I had detention, Professor," Josh said a little louder, still not meeting her eyes.

Umbridge's smile grew even wider. "Three weeks of detention in the first month of term? Oh my. Is this club filled with other delinquents such as yourself? As a punishment, perhaps?"

"Of course not!" Josh said hotly. "And I'm not a de-whatsit—"

"He was just defending me!" Matt said just as angrily, speaking over him. "After another student—"

"Manners, boys," Umbridge reprimanded, eyes sparking although her smile stayed in place. "If you don't learn them soon, I'll be forced to take away House points."

They were silent, but both continued to glare malevolently at her, something that seemed to make Umbridge all the more joyful. "Yes, I see exactly what kind of children a club like this attracts...Well, I think that's all," she said, rather louder than necessary. "Just a few words with you, Filius, if you would, and then I'll be on my way."

With Professor Flitwick, she removed to the far end of the classroom; he spoke in an undertone while Umbridge made no effort to lower her voice.

"What exactly is the purpose—?"

"Do your students realize that pursuing careers in music—?"

"These children need to be motivated—"

"Well, Filius, I think I have everything I need," said Umbridge, scribbling down a few more notes on her clipboard. "The Minister will get back to you with his decision."

"I look forward to hearing from him," Flitwick said, although his smile was rather strained.

Umbridge smiled widely at him before bouncing out of the room. After she had left, Flitwick turned to face the rest of the class, looking a little unbalanced. "Er..." he said. "Why don't we just leave it at that for this week? Next Sunday, then, eight o'clock, I'll see you here."

"If there _is_ a next week," Mike said darkly as they left the classroom. "Umbridge didn't seem overly fond of the club, did she?"

"Of course not," Josh muttered. "Always got to stick her nose into everything, doing her best to make us miserable...She's a bloody horrible—"

"Mr. Ramsay," said a sweet voice from behind him, and he turned around slowly, dread curling in his stomach. Umbridge herself had just stepped out from an alcove, and her small, bitter eyes were glittering with malice. "I believe I've already reminded you several times to remember your manners. It simply will not do to speak about your superiors in such a way."

Josh gulped. She terrified him, but he was suddenly determined not to let this squat, ugly lady get the best of him. "Maybe you should remember yours first? I always thought interrupting was rude."

With astonishing quickness, her face turned a brilliant puce, and her eyes narrowed into near invisibility. "Come with me, Ramsay," she snapped. "And twenty points from Gryffindor."

He had known he would be punished as soon as the words had slipped from his mouth, but that didn't stop him from hanging his head as he followed after Umbridge. She led him down several corridors, until they came to a stop outside what Josh assumed was her office. She opened the door and pushed him inside, and he was overwhelmed by a sudden impression of pink.

Everything in the office was pink, from the walls to the floor to the cushions on the chairs. White doilies covered every surface, and plates with pictures of moving kittens were hung on the walls. Josh had a good appreciation of cats, having grown up with several, but even he thought that was too much.

His attention was torn away from the plates by a light cough from Umbridge. "Now, what should your punishment be?" she asked, smiling widely at him.

"Isn't being in this room punishment enough?" Josh muttered, and immediately knew he had gone too far.

"Sit down, Mr. Ramsay," Umbridge said, her voice low and menacing. Gulping, Josh sat in a chair with a frilly pink cushion, directly across from Umbridge. "You'll be writing lines," she said, her voice back to being sickly sweet.

That didn't seem too bad, but Josh hardly had time to be relieved before Umbridge was sliding a blood-red quill and a sheaf of parchment towards him, a smile on her face. "Now," she said softly, "you're going to be writing some lines. Write 'I must not forget my manners' for me, please."

Obediently, knowing it would do no good for him to fight back now, he put the pen to the paper and began to write. The letters appeared in blood red ink, and a second later he gasped with the pain in the back of his left hand. Looking down, he saw that the words had been scratched there as if by a knife in his own large, messy handwriting.

A moment later, the bloody sentence faded away and was replaced by new skin. Josh looked up at Umbridge, mouth agape with shock. She only smiled sweetly at him. "Is something wrong, dear?"

"No," Josh grunted, hating her even more. He turned his attention back to the parchment and once again began to laboriously write out his punishment. Again, the words appeared scratched in the back of his hand, but he made no sound and didn't glance up. Again, the words faded away after a couple of seconds and were replaced by fresh, pink skin.

By the time Umbridge released him at ten thirty, the back of his hand was smarting, and the skin was raw-looking and red.

"There," she said, taking his hand and examining it closely; Josh resisted the impulse to pull away. "Do you think that's a big enough reminder for now?"

"Yes, Professor," Josh muttered, not meeting her eyes. As soon as she loosened her grip on his hand, he pulled it back.

"You may go," Umbridge said. "If I ever catch you saying such things in the corridor again, your punishment will be much worse. Understand?"

"Yes, Professor," Josh said, turning to go.

"She's _evil_," he hissed to Matt when he joined him in the dormitory ten minutes later. "I couldn't imagine a more evil, foul—"

"Make sure she doesn't hear you," Matt said worriedly, once again flipping through his Potions textbook—this time looking for a solution to put on Josh's stinging hand.

"She can't hear me from here," Josh scoffed, but looked around all the same.

"Okay," Matt sighed, putting his book away. "If your hand is still hurting tomorrow, we can try Essence of Murtlap. But I'm dead tired right now, and we have class tomorrow."

"With _her_," Josh grumbled, lying on his back and staring up at his canopy, and thinking that if he had a list of people he hated, the High Inquisitor would be at the top.


End file.
